


Sunday School

by Kerink



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale has a vulva, BDSM Scene, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Consent Play, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Virginity Kink, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 09:30:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19827304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerink/pseuds/Kerink
Summary: “What could a demon possibly know that an angel couldn’t?”“Why,” the demon cooed right up against his ear, “sssssex, of courssse.”- - -Abandoned in the Garden of Eden, Aziraphale gets a biology lesson from a serpent.





	Sunday School

“I could teach you if you like.”

The voice was cool and smooth, making Aziraphale jump up from his spot at the water’s edge. He scanned the garden slowly, carefully, hands grasping for a hilt that was not there and he felt cold run through him. The Almighty had given him a sword for a reason. 

As far and wide as he could see was all neat wildflowers and berry bushes and fruit and nut trees and vegetable vines snaking along the ground and trellised between branches. Wild and unkempt only in first impression but settled together perfectly to provide ample walking space for animals or humans or ethereal beings. 

Aziraphale’s wings twitched, spreading outward a fraction more, trying to puff himself up. Just because he was _only_ a Principality did not mean he was defenseless, someone worth trifling with. 

“Who said that?” 

There was a rustle from above and to the left and Aziraphale’s head snapped to attention. Trees and bushes and vines and blooms… 

And then a second rustle of leaves, a shadow meandering. Come alive as if Aziraphale’s address had breathed life into it. The angel’s own plaything. 

“I did.” 

Aziraphale squared up, clenching his fist and setting his jaw and adjusting his stance. He was dripping from where he’d been kicking his feet in the water. Cooling off as the desert sun beat down, God having withdrawn from this place at the expulsion of her first human children. The sound his shifting made in the freshly forming mud was unbecoming. 

“A demon,” the words were haughty just for show, what confusion he’d been feeling before pooling as dread inside of his new corporation. “I thought one of you might slink in through the crack.” 

“Not the crack.” The shadow was still moving, twisting endlessly in the canopy. Aziraphale hadn’t seen anything but shadow and movement. Perhaps the shadow _was_ the demon. “Got in here myself. What’sss the point of placing guards ‘round to keep the demonsss out when you know we’re downssstairsss.” A shimmer caught Azirapahle’s eye and he watched a mound of black scales pass between the leaves and counted down the seconds. His fear was growing with each passing numerical hush it took for the side to turn into tail to disappear. This creature was far, far larger than any of the other snakes or lizards Aziraphale had seen in Eden. “All I had to do wasss tunnel up from below and pop right in.” 

Azirpahale tugged on the front of his robe, anything to keep his sweating hands preoccupied. “I should have known Eve didn’t get the idea to disobey God all on her own. Wasn’t it enough that you ruined your eternity? Why’d you have to go and ruin theirs too?” 

The demon chuckled something dark and hissing and sighing, like a vent of steam. A head finally lowered from the canopy, dangling a few paces off from Aziraphale. It was a snake. 

“I didn’t do anything. Jussst pointed out a desssign flaw and lapsss in logic. Clever children like that were bound to figure it out on their own.” The snake appraised him for a moment, head tilting. “Didn’t you have a sssword before?” 

Aziraphale bristled. “I still have it! Just- Just not on my person. Not at the moment!” As if trying to cover up from his own blunder, his own thinly veiled lie, Aziraphale stepped closer. “And-“ he pointed threateningly at the serpent, “I can go and fetch it at any time and smite you!” 

The serpent let out a sound Aziraphale could only describe as a hum or a chuckle but that wasn’t quite right. It was amused, though, that much Aziraphale knew. He hated the angry, embarrassed flush that overtook him. 

“You won’t do that.” 

“And what makes you so sure I won’t?” 

A quirk of the head in the direction of a wall unseen. “They’re fucking again.” 

As if Aziraphale’s face couldn’t get any redder. 

At that moment Aziraphale knew two things: 1. The demon knew Aziraphale was not personally in possession of his sword and 2. The demon knew exactly where the sword was and could conceivably beat Aziraphale to it. 

This knowledge did nothing to make him feel better. Which was probably the demon’s point. 

“I said,” more of the demon’s head and neck appear from within the branches, “I could teach you.” 

“T- Teach me what, exactly?” Aziraphale drew his arms and wings in closer as he was slowly approached, the strong muscles keeping the demon at eye level even as it slid from its perch. “What could a demon possibly know that an angel couldn’t?” Its eyes were hypnotic, flashing amber orbs catching the filtering sunlight, the demon swaying slightly side to side as it drew closer to Aziraphale. He knew he should run, fly away, he felt stuck in the mud, locked on those orbs. He was swaying too. 

He felt coldness on his shin and jumped but didn’t go anywhere, one of his legs caught for real. Aziraphale managed to pull his gaze away enough to see the demon’s lower half curling up his leg. 

Aziraphale’s heartbeat (still new and foreign and strange and uncontrollable) was hammering in his chest and throat and ears. He heard rushing water and felt cold even where the demon wasn’t twisting higher and higher up his body. 

“Why,” the demon cooed right up against his ear, “sssssex, of courssse.” 

Aziraphale’s head snapped back up to face the demon, lips parting as he scrambled to think of a protest, a rebuke, anything. He was beat, mind moving too slowly in his embarrassment and growing fear. 

“That’sss why you came down here, wasssn’t it? Ssso you didn’t have to watch?” The demon chuckled again. 

There was a heavy weight coiling around his waist and Aziraphale needed to do something. 

Spreading his wings, he attempted to kick off, but before his toes even left the ground he was being pulled back to the Earth by the squeeze on his left side, anchored by the demon’s solid weight, firm grasp. His white robes splattered with mud, Aziraphale raising his arms in a desperate attempt to keep clean. 

This time the demon laughed outright and Aziraphale squeaked in fear and surprise as his own movements gave the creature more room to wrap around him. 

“You really _are_ cute. Look at you, should’a ran away when you had the chance.” The demon wasn’t hissing anymore, voice more even, easier to make out. It wasn’t until Aziraphale felt hands at the sides of his face, reaching to caress him from behind, that he noticed. 

While the demon’s lower half twisted around him (his coil wrapping up his left leg, around his waist, down his right leg) Aziraphale could feel a firm, broad chest boxing him in from behind. A head, a human-shaped head, a handsome human-shaped head rest on his shoulder. 

“You know how babies are made; you have to by now. The Almighty,” the title was spat more than said, “wouldn’t have sent you down here to watch over all of creation without imparting SOME knowledge onto you.” The demon eyed him, smirking. “Right?” 

Aziraphale’s hands were pushing at the coil around his waist, with each jerking movement he made, the corded muscles tightened, inching up his stomach, trying to find the best grip. He was kicking his legs, trying to shake the demon off, and just the same the hold grew more and more firm until his legs were apart and he was splashing in shallow mud more than anything. 

“What do you want from me?” Aziraphale snapped, turning his head to face the other once he accepted he wouldn’t get free until the demon allowed him. 

“Said it three times now!” it huffed, smirk dropping to a bored, unamused expression. “Teach you how much fun you can have with this pretty new body of yours.”

“Unhand me, you fiend!” Aziraphale demanded, redoubling his efforts to force the demon off of him. The hands left his cheeks and began stroking down his neck, replaced by warm wetness as the demon moved to grope at his chest, opting to let its mouth work him instead. 

“You know what to say to make me stop.” The demon’s breath was hot against the wet mark it had left. 

“I have nothing to say to you!” 

Purring, nuzzling the crook behind Aziraphale’s ear, the demon’s hands traveled further and further down his body, until they reached his hips. Aziraphale’s breath and robe were hitched at the same time, “N-no, stop it,” he pleaded, panting as the coils around his legs forced them further and further apart. 

The demon’s snakeish lower half was squeezing and releasing in a steady, gentle pattern that left his feet numb but caused heat to pool between his legs. He’d never felt anything like this before and his struggles were turning increasingly more to squirming. Aziraphale’s hands were braced on the muddy ground, grass tickling at him. There were still hands pawing at his chest, and there was heat there too. Unbearable, unfamiliar heat that had nothing to do with the sun screaming overhead. This was a heat radiating from Aziraphale’s core, from the wild thrum of his heart. 

And there was still more to it. The demon’s body was only partially wrapped up around him, the rest trailing out before Aziraphale, undulating and squirming in the grass, crushing flowers. He could be more trapped, impossibly more trapped, held down and eaten alive by this great beast. And The Lord had left, had turned Her gaze away from the garden. Aziraphale was alone here, left to fend for himself against the monsters that had split themselves from Her grace. 

There were tears pricking at his eyes. Crystalline and more solid than water. Diamonds, nearly… 

“What do you want with me?” Aziraphale had tried to sound demanding, tried to sound brave. He sounded so small, so lost. 

The demon cooed and tutted, comforted him, nuzzled his cheek and kissed his rosy skin. “I’m not going to hurt you, Angel. Just want to have a bit of fun together, is all.” 

“I don’t like this!” 

Humming, the demon’s hands slipped from massaging his thighs down between his legs. “But do you like this?” There were fingers pressing at something hard and hot on him and Aziraphale’s entire body jerked and twitched at the shock the caress sent through him. His head was tilted back, falling on the demon’s shoulder, exposing his throat to it. He gasped and moaned, loud and surprised and confused, eyes half lidded as he stare past the golden flecks of light through shaking leaves. 

“Yeah,” the demon kissed his throat, “thought you might.” 

Whatever it was doing, the demon kept doing it. Rolling and pressing its fingers up against his sensitive flesh. “This is your clit,” the demon informed him, still tucked up against his neck. “Feels good, huh?” 

Aziraphale’s throat was tight as a groan squeezed out of him, hips rolling, trying to get the demon to do something else, something he didn’t know. Fill a deep need in him. 

“Alright, alright,” the demon hushed, sitting him back up. “I’m going to give your little pussy something real nice here in a second. Keep your eyes open, that’s it, make sure you watch, yeah? Yeah, you’re a good boy.” Aziraphale’s gaze was locked on his exposed body, the demon’s fingers slick and glistening. “You watching?” Aziraphale nodded. He was shaking. 

The demon’s fingers lowered and begun to disappear. Aziraphale felt a tickle as more of his body was parted. 

And then a shout, eyes clamping shut, as he felt a finger enter him. 

“Eyes open, Angel,” the demon growled, one hand on the front of his throat. Not squeezing, simply holding Aziraphale in place as it worked its finger steadily deeper into Aziraphale’s body. 

Ever obedient, Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open. He watched the demon work its finger in and out of him now. There were tears and drool pooling inside of him, and when the demon slid a second finger in beside the first they finally began to fall. 

“Ssso cute.” The demon was panting against his ear, head resting on Aziraphale’s shoulder so it could watch the show as well. “And ssso tight. It’s gonna feel real nice inside of you.” 

“I-inside of me?” Aziraphale’s voice was quiet and raw and quivering. The demon groaned and forced a third finger before Aziraphale felt ready for it. He cried out in pain and pleasure and had to work to keep his eyelids up, afraid of what the demon might do to him if he disobeyed again. 

While it was true that its current ministrations hurt, Aziraphale found that he didn’t mind, didn’t want it to stop, contradicting his earlier wishes. No wonder Adam and Eve were always upon each other. 

The demon’s lower half was on the move again, being pulled in towards the knot of them. It rest between Aziraphale’s legs, lengthwise at a slight angle, so as not to smother or crush him. The rubbing at his ‘clit’ stopped, causing Aziraphale to let out a desperate little gasp. 

He was shushed low and soothing. The demon was groping between them, touching himself, and Aziraphale shifted so as to watch. 

Heat ran through him again. Hanging from the demon’s mass of ruddy scales was something similar to what Adam had. Aziraphale squirmed again. This part he knew and that knowledge cause him to whimper. 

The demon was still hushing him, the hand at his neck petting in soft circles, keeping Aziraphale pressed to its chest. Once he felt the demon lined up and pressing against his ‘pussy,’ the demon returned to petting his ‘clit,’ making sure to keep him warm and wet and welcoming. 

Aziraphale keened as the demon’s body twisted, pushing fully into him in one slick movement, hissing dark and deep against Aziraphale. 

There was no gentle ease into it, no shallow thrust, no squirming, not at all like the demon had done with its fingers. Instead the demon’s body was thrusting up against him fast and shallow, tearing into him with desperate, greedy thrusts. Although there was nothing more to see than a writhing mass of black scales, Aziraphale kept his eyes open, locked on to where he knew they were joined in a mating dance. The demon now assaulting his ‘clit’ with vicious intent. 

He was trembling, mouth open, gasps and moans and grunts and groans bubbling out of him freely. The demon’s fangs clamped down on his shoulder the moment the pace was set. Keeping them locked up together while its body rolled into him. There were coils slowly wrapping more and more of him up, snaking up his chest and one of his arms. Lazy and aimless, unlike the determined loops around his legs. 

Aziraphale kept himself braced against one of those firm coils, his other hand reaching back to tangle into the demon’s short red hair. Pressure was building inside of him, pressure that was unrelated to the organ plugging him up. Pressure that was blissful and blooming and demanding and terrifying. That fear began oozing into Aziraphale’s cries, but the demon was relentless inside and outside of him. 

And then he sighed in relief as the tension broke and warm tingles bubbled all throughout his body. As if every nerve ending in his corporation had burst. He was panting more heavy and wild then he’d ever had in his life, body slumping against the demon while it worked to finish itself inside of him. 

Aziraphale was ever so thankful that God hadn’t been paying attention. 

* * *

“You know, darling,” Aziraphale said, pushing open the backdoor and leaving Crowley’s perfectly maintained garden behind them, “when you check the safe word in the middle of a scene it really affects the mood.” 

“Just got me nervous when you tried to fly off is all. Wanted to make sure-” 

“That I was still interested?” Aziraphale miracle the muddy robe off his body and into the wash across the cottage. They were trying to cut back on frivolous miracles to stay off Heaven and Hell’s radars, but keeping mud out of his hair did not seem frivolous. “You asked me if I remembered it before we started.” 

Crowley, still dressed in his black linen robe, stared helplessly at him, “Yeah but-“ 

“And-“ Aziraphale cut in, reaching beside Crowley for the coat rack. He plucked off one white cotton bath robe and one black silk bath robe. He handed Crowley his, and the demon took it obediently, before Aziraphale threw his own on. The knot at his waist was pulled tight. “And,” he continued, “we’re using the word I suggested. I’m not going to forget it.” 

Crowley nodded dumbly, bare eyes locked on Aziraphale as he snapped his play robe off and tied his house robe on. 

Aziraphale gave a long-suffering sigh, taking the demon’s hands into his own. He kissed each knuckle in turn, not stopping even as he felt Crowley’s tension leave him. 

“Dinner smells lovely.” Crowley hummed in agreement, the sound long and easy. Aziraphale pulled himself away and shuffled into the kitchen reaching for the oven door. 

In a flash, Crowley was between them. “No! No, angel, three more hours.” 

“Oh, I just want a peek.” 

“Look at it through the glass.” 

“It’s not the same!” 

“Opening the door for anything other than scheduled basting is going to unnecessarily lower the heat.” Aziraphale pouted, hands on his hips, and Crowley gave him a serious look. “Go find something else to do, I’ll call you at next baste and you can peek all you like.” 

Aziraphale huffed indignantly out his nostrils before turning to leave Crowley to whatever it was he got up to when he shooed Aziraphale from the kitchen. But as he went his eye was caught by the cake display sitting temptingly beside him. 

Aziraphale glanced at Crowley (who had turned to double check the timer and the open recipe book) shuffling closer and closer until he could lift the heavy glass lid. All the while giving Crowley a careful eye. 

The clatter of glass on glass drew the demon’s attention and he turned to watch Aziraphale reaching in to steal a cookie. 

“No,” Crowley said firmly. 

Aziraphale didn’t stop. 

“Angel,” he warned. 

Aziraphale grasped a cookie. 

“Aziraphale,” he threatened. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth, hovering the cookie there in his own threat. A stand-off. 

“You’re going to spoil your appetite!” 

“We don’t have appetites, darling.” Aziraphale was backing up out of the kitchen now, cookie still poised and ready. Crowley advanced on him. 

“You woke me up this morning all doe-eyed and pouty _oh dear boy a roast dinner would be just lovely_ and kicked me out of bed at sunrise,” Crowley lift a warning finger as Aziraphale opened his mouth again, drawing the cookie closer, “to get to the butcher right at open,” Aziraphale stuck his tongue out, “to get you their largest, freshest cut and you _will_ have an empty stomach when it’s ready.” 

Aziraphale licked the cookie. 

Crowley launched himself at the angel, tackling him and tipping them over the back of the couch in a tangle of limbs and tossed robes. 

The sound of Crowley hitting his head on the coffee table masked the _crunch_ of Aziraphale sinking his teeth in to his prize.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm also on twitter (kerinky) & tumblr (kerink)


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